


eat your heart out

by TrasBen



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dream is Trans, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Origin Story, Other, Trans Female Character, Transphobia, doesn't follow canon dreamtale, hints of cream, hints of dreammare, hints of driller, im sorry im garbage i couldn't keep the ships out -, kind of a series of drabbles, poor nightmare and dream :(, the villagers are really horrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25004245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrasBen/pseuds/TrasBen
Summary: "eat one's heart out"suffer from excessive longing for someone or something unattainablesimilar: pine, long, ache, brood, mope, fret, sigh, sorrow, suffer, bleed, yearn, agonize.
Relationships: Nightmare & Dream, Sans/Sans (Slight)
Comments: 39
Kudos: 125





	1. despite everything

**Author's Note:**

> quick note: dream initially refers to herself with 'him/he' pronouns due to the fact that she doesn't know that she's trans/what being trans is.
> 
> it's later corrected when she figures it out!! :D
> 
> also, the whole thing about female skeletons wearing scarves on their heads to show that they're women/girls is something i read in [LadyAnatares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAnatares/pseuds/LadyAnatares) fic, [Not Your Bus Crash.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22121272/chapters/52799656) in their fic, sans is trans masc, but i kind of like the idea of like,,,, the opposite? what if dream really liked the way the scarves looked?? and was like 'oh,,, i'm girl'??

Dream hates the village.

_Hate hate hate._

He wishes it was just him, Nightmare, and their mom again. He wishes for a lot of things. He wishes he was still a blob of energy and not a stupid skeleton. He wishes the villagers hadn't told him that being helpful and strong means he has to stay in a stupid box where they tell him what to do and how to be. He wishes his mom wasn’t a Tree.

_He wishes Nightmare would talk to him!_

None of Dream’s wishes will come true, though. Because that’s what _Dream_ does. He does what _other people want_ so _their_ wishes can come true.

When he finally gets back to the Tree, the sun is setting and Nightmare is sitting at the base of it per usual. He’s got his nasal ridge shoved in a book and he’s quiet.

“Hello, Nighty.” Dream says gently.

Nightmare’s violet eye lights peak up over the book and he grunts in response. Dream catches a splotch of purple under his right eye socket.

“Are you… okay?” Dream asks, voice very small. Usually Nightmare doesn’t react to these types of questions. He doesn’t want to tell Dream the truth.

Nightmare sets down the book, and the full extent of the injury is revealed. The bruise stems from his nasal ridge which is a deep purple, and fades under his socket. “... I’m fine.” He tells Dream, “I just tripped.”

The scrapes on Dream’s knees start to ache again and he wonders if maybe _this_ is what Nightmare’s meant all those times he’s lied.

“I tripped today, too.” Dream lies.

He sits down heavily next to his brother and rolls up his pant legs until his patellas are exposed. They’re flushed a dark gold and yellow marrow leaks steadily from the scrapes. “Outside of the bakery.” He continues.

“Hm.” Nightmare only grunts and goes back to his reading.

Dream lays back on the ground so he can stare up at the leaves of the Tree. He wants to tell Nightmare about what really happened, but he doesn’t want his brother to hate him or think he’s weird. 

_He’s your brother,_ Dream’s mind tries to reason. _He can’t hate you._

But Dream hadn’t thought Mrs. Arlyl could hate him until she’d yanked the scarf away from his skull on the path earlier today, pushing him to the ground.

_Disgusting_ , she’d called him.

Dream had just wanted to be pretty.

He’s always liked pretty things. Pretty dresses, pretty jewelry.

But he’s never been allowed to do more than admire them from afar. The villagers always insist that boys shouldn’t like dresses, shouldn’t like necklaces or rings. That boys aren’t allowed to play with the girls.

Boys have to learn to be _men._ Have to be strong and unfeeling.

The villagers praise Dream when he does what they want. He always helps with what they ask and he makes friends with the other boys like he’s supposed to and he doesn’t cry.

Dream doesn’t understand.

_Why_ can’t he like pretty things? _Why_ can’t he _be_ pretty?

“Nightmare?” Dream asks, but his mouth is numb and he doesn’t feel himself speaking.

“What is it now…?” Nightmare sighs.

Dream hesitates, but finds the courage to continue, “Have you ever wanted to be… pretty?”

“...”

Nightmare sighs again. “You ask stupid questions, brother.”

_Dream had thought so._

* * *

Dream had never seen a skeleton besides him or Nightmare. 

Not before _Ms. Calibri_ , at least.

He’d been really, really surprised to see her. She’s tall and thin and her skull is like a perfect oval. She’s probably one of the most beautiful monsters Dream has ever seen, even though she’s old.

_Really old_. Not as old as his mom, but as close as monsters can really get.

Dream likes her scarves. She wears them on her head.

And she has _a lot._

Naively he’d asked one of the adults in the village _why_ she always wore scarves and the lady had explained that female skeletons wear scarves on their head to distinguish themselves from male skeletons.

It surprised Dream. Not the fact that lady skeletons wear scarves, but the fierce _longing_ that filled him.

_He_ wanted a scarf like hers.

It’s why he makes it his personal mission to help her as much as possible! She’s pretty old, so she needs help with a lot of things. Dream goes to the store a lot with her and carries heavy things for her.

On the rare occasion nobody needs him, Dream goes over to her small house and he helps her clean or cook. She’s very nice.

_Shamefully, he can admit to himself that it’s a lot nicer than sitting next to Nightmare. Nightmare doesn’t talk unless Dream speaks first and it’s only ever to lie to him._

Thinking like that makes Dream feel bad, though. Nightmare hides a lot of things but Dream's too scared to ask him about them and shatter whatever fragile thing they have between each other and the village.

One day, Dream slips and tells Ms. Calibril that he wants a scarf like one of hers.

She sits him down at her old vanity and she brings out the prettiest scarf Dream has ever seen. It’s a translucent yellow that reminds Dream of sunshine with white lace patterns. She drapes it over Dream’s skull and ties it like she does to herself.

Dream stares at himself for a long time. For some reason, he starts to cry, but he’s really _really_ happy, then.

Whenever Dream goes to Ms. Calibri’s from then on, she puts the scarf on his skull and lets him dance and play around her house. Dream is especially delighted when she teaches him a dance that her mother had taught her.

…

He almost can’t believe his metaphorical ears when she offers to let him _have_ the pretty yellow scarf.

His SOUL feels like it might beat out of his rib cage when she ties it around his skull once last time and sends him home. Dream skips down the streets as the sun sets, twirling around and giggling.

… Dream almost makes it home when he passes the bakery.

Mrs. Arlyl is out front sweeping the porch when he passes. She stops him with a sharp bark.

Fearful, like he knows he’s going to be scolded, Dream stands in front of her with his head bowed. 

She yanks the scarf off, which sends Dream to his knees. 

He wants to cry but he doesn’t want to show emotions because _boys don’t cry._ Mrs. Arlyl tells him that only _girl_ skeletons wear scarves and that Dream is _disgusting_ for trying to look like a girl.

_Dream is rarely ever scolded by the villagers._

He runs home, ignoring his bleeding knees and the burning in his sockets.

_Boys don’t cry Boys don’t cry Boys don’t cry_

* * *

The next day, Dream is full of shame as he tells Ms. Calibri that he lost the scarf. Her eye sockets narrow like she knows he’s lying, but she just sits Dream down at the vanity again and pulls out another scarf.

This one is a baby blue with yellow lace. She ties it on him and he cries when he sees himself in the mirror again but he can’t help the itching feeling that coats his bones when he thinks about what Mrs. Arlyl said.

“Am I disgusting?” Dream asks Ms. Calibri. He trusts her to tell the truth.

“Oh, no…” She says gently, smoothing the fabric of the scarf over Dreams skull. Her sockets aren’t narrow and angry anymore. “You’re beautiful.”

Dream feels shocked. He _can’t_ be beautiful. Boys aren’t beautiful.

“But I’m a boy.” Dream tells her sadly.

“Boys can be beautiful, too…” She tells him. “I had a brother once, he was far prettier than I.”

He almost doesn’t believe her because Dream can’t imagine someone more pretty than Ms. Calibri. But she doesn’t lie to him.

“Did he like to wear scarves, too?”

Ms. Calibri hums and closes her sockets delicately. Dream likes the way it looks, to be gentle. He wants to be the same as her.

“... No.” She says eventually. “He liked dresses, though.”

Something in Dream glows brightly at the thought of wearing dresses, but it’s dampened by her admission. “So I _am_ weird, then. Boys don’t want to wear scarves to look like girls.” Dream says glumly.

Ms. Calibri pats Dream’s skull again, “Are you a boy?” She asks.

It’s almost too confusing an idea to wrap his head around. Of course Dream is a boy.

From the first moment he met the villagers, when they began to crowd around the tree and introduce themselves and ask questions, they'd told him that's what he was. Neither he and Nightmare had ever had need to identify themselves in such a way, but with so many people, he supposed it might be necessary. Dream had just shrugged and eventually they decided that his nature was very _boyish_ and that's what he became.

“Yes?”

_So why does he sound so uncertain?_

“I’ve always been a boy.” Dream explains, “So I have to be. That’s what the other villagers say.”

But it feels wrong. Dream’s never _liked_ being a boy, but he has to be one. That’s how he was made. That's how he looks, and sounds, and acts.

Ms. Calibri laughs and she guides Dream to sit down on her fluffy couch. “It doesn’t matter what _they_ say. How _you_ feel matters. So I’ll ask you again: Are you a boy?”

Dream looks down at himself with a frown. He’s always been a boy.

… Has he? He wasn't before the villagers came, surely. Back then he wasn't anything, but that's before he was a skeleton.

But... when Ms. Calibri had first put that scarf on Dream, when he looked in the mirror, he’d seen a girl. A pretty girl.

He held it with him like a prized secret.

Every time he put on the scarf, he saw that same girl in his reflection and he became addicted to seeing the girl in the mirror But that’s all she was. The girl in the mirror.

Dream tries to explain to Ms. Calibri what he’s thinking, and she listens very patiently before she responds.

“Mirrors can be fickle. Sometimes, they show us what other people see, not what we know. But… if you look past the surface, you can find _your_ truth. What did you feel like when you saw that girl?”

“... I felt really good.” Dream has to hold back tears, because it’s the ugliest part of his little secret. “I like her. I want to be her.”

And Ms. Calibri says something that changes Dream’s life forever.

“My child, you _are_ her.”

Again, Ms. Calibri drags Dream to her vanity and sits him down. When Dream looks up at himself, he can see that there’s tears streaking down the girl’s face. _She’s_ allowed to cry.

“Despite everything…” Ms. Calibri speaks gently, “It’s still you.”

The girl looks back at Dream.

“I… I’m a girl.” He, _she,_ says. “I’m a girl.” She says again, more confidently.

It feels _right._ More right than anything else than Dream has ever said. It feels like the truth.

The old skeleton smiles down at Dream and pats her skull again. “You most certainly are, my dear.”

* * *

Dream learns very quickly that she’s only allowed to be a girl when she’s at Ms. Calibri’s or alone at the Tree.

When she tells one of the adults, he laughs very loudly and it hurts. He tells Dream that she can’t be a girl and that she should stop being ridiculous _._

Somehow, the boys that had once been her friends figure out and they mock her for it. Dream is terrified of telling other people after that. She keeps the secret close to her SOUL and pretends that she’d never told anyone at all.

Things go back to normal after a week. Dream doesn’t wear scarves outside of Ms. Calibri’s house because she doesn’t want to have it taken from her again.

When Dream is at the tree, she doesn’t talk to Nightmare much. She hates lies and she hates that it feels like a lie when she talks to him. He still calls her ‘brother’ and it hurts when he does even though she hasn’t told him.

Sometimes Nightmare is gone from the Tree, and when he is, Dream hums to herself and does the dance Ms. Calibri taught her. Being graceful makes her feel better about having to act and dress like a boy.

For some reason, now that she knows she’s a girl, everything hurts much worse. Other things that didn’t used to bother her - like the thickness of her bones or the size of her hands - make her feel bad.

She feels silly and _ridiculous_ when something so tiny can make her feel horrible for an entire day.

Things with Nightmare get worse but she’s too afraid to try and talk with him seriously. She has her own secrets and she’s terrified of telling him and being rejected for them.

It feels _wrong wrong wrong_ to watch him come home with bruises and scrapes and to pretend she doesn't see. She can't even muster up a polite question of what happened, because she knows, _doesn't_ she. She knows what it's like to have the adults laugh at her and make her feel like nothing and she hates it so much. So she doesn't say anything. And it feels wrong. Bad. She feels bad.

* * *

Ms. Calibri dies.

Dream should have known it would happen. The other skeleton was old and widowed.

But it still hurts. Her safe place is gone. The village leaders decide to send Ms. Calibri’s dust with her things back to her family up north. Dream sneaks into the house before they can take anything and finds the blue scarf.

She stuffs it into her pocket and kisses the mirror on the vanity lightly before she leaves. The next day Ms. Calibri’s house is overrun with villagers as they pack as many of her things up as they can.

Dream clutches the pocket with the scarf in it and says goodbye.

* * *

Things with Nightmare get better after Ms. Calibri is gone.

Dream spends most of her time at the Tree with Nightmare. They talk and hang out more. After a week, it looks like Nightmare has less bruises than before and he doesn’t lie as much when Dream is brave enough to ask.

With each day, Dream feels a growing need to tell Nightmare about her secret. But fear keeps her from being completely honest.

The humiliation from being laughed at is still fresh in her mind, even months after it’s happened.

* * *

_Dream thought things were better now._

It’s dark when it happens. She and Nightmare had been sitting in a comfortable silence when the shouting started. It came from the village.

She almost got up to see what’s wrong, but Nightmare grabs her hand and pulls her back.

“Don’t.” He whispered. He sounds scared and that chills her down to her very core. Nightmare's never scared. 

_The villagers come in droves. They have torches and farm equipment with them. They shout things like Demon and Filth._

Nightmare holds her hand the entire time. Dream is afraid. She wants to yank her hand away and leave and run run _run_. 

But she can't. She can't leave Nightmare alone with all of them, not when they're like this.

She grips Nightmare’s hand tightly in her own and listens to her own SOUL beat frantically in her rib cage. Dream wants to run far, far away.

But they have to protect the Tree. She has to protect...

When the villagers finally make it up the hill that the Tree is on, they shout for Nightmare. 

_Dream is so confused._

She doesn’t let them have Nightmare. She stands in front of her brother, as a protector.

Dream is strong. She can keep Nightmare safe and happy. She can make it so he doesn’t have to lie. She can help, she _knows_ she can.

But the villagers still push her away. They scream and shout and yell accusations and before Dream knows it, Nightmare’s eating the apples he’s _eating the apples_.

It happens too quickly for Dream to truly register what’s happening but at the same time feels like slow motion.

Dream hears unfamiliar screaming and realizes that it’s _her,_ _she’s_ screaming. She screams for them to leave her and Nightmare alone until her voice is raw and it unsettles the villagers so much that they back off a little. Nightmare keeps eating apples.

When Dream falls to the ground, exhausted, the villagers get closer again. She watches as Nightmare starts to change.

She watches as he starts to _take_ the golden apples and continues to gorge himself. One of the golden apples rolls away from the Tree, shaken down by the commotion. Before Nightmare can see it, Dream snatches it up for herself and eats it, core and all.

Her vision gets dark and she doesn’t understand what’s happening when the villager’s screaming turns frantic and the sound of gore surrounds her.

… Dream wakes up early the next morning, as the sun is rising.

The world is bathed in red. There’s only one figure standing among the dust and blood at their feet. It’s Nightmare.

But it’s not the Nightmare that Dream knows.

This Nightmare drips black gunk from his bones and has writhing tentacles that protrude from his back.

“Nightmare…?” She pushes herself to her feet and hobbles over.

When she tries to touch her brother, to pat his shoulder, a tentacle whips out and grabs her by the wrist. Dream yelps.

Nightmare turns around, and Dream can see that he only has one eye light now. It’s large, teal, and trained on her.

“I don’t regret it.” He tells her. “I hate them. They deserved it.”

Dream’s eye sockets are wide and dark as she realizes he’s talking about the villagers. She feels sick.

“B-Brother…”

Nightmare sneers. His grip on Dream’s wrist tightens.

With horror, she sees that her wrist is starting to turn gray. She thinks she might be dusting, but instead, her hand hardens. She can’t move or feel it.

“Brother!” She exclaims, louder, panicked. But she can’t move away. Only watch as the stone spreads up her body until the world goes dark and she can only feel the gentle wind of the hill brush over her stone body.

Nightmare leaves and Dream is alone.

* * *

Dream is alone for a long time. She doesn’t know exactly how long because she is just barely aware at the best of times and even then it’s tiring.

But it _feels_ like forever.

One day, something feels like it’s breaking and Dream falls to the ground.

It’s disorienting to come back to the world after so long, and Dream’s not where she remembers.

She’s in a weird world made of islands that float in an empty world.

There’s another skeleton who identifies himself as Ink and listens to her story. He tells her about the whereabouts of her brother and what he’s done.

According to him, it’s been centuries since she was trapped. At Dream’s request, he leaves her alone for a few hours so she can process everything.

_The villagers are dead._

_Nightmare is s-some sort of super villain now…_

She should feel devastated, she knows.

But the truth is that Dream had never really _liked_ the village. It had been suffocating and dark and full of pain. It feels freeing to be rid of that place. The scarf in her pocket feels heavy.

With shaking hands, Dream pulls it out and ties it around her skull like Ms. Calibri had done for her dozens of times.

When Ink returns, he startles and looks to her curiously and he asks about the scarf. Dream explains, with a shaking voice. 

It's strange. Ink doesn't do anything more than shrug and snap his fingers and hum and do a little shimmy, and he's off doing something new.

Very, very strange. But still.

She feels giddy, almost.

It’s the start of her new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically wrote this because i was having a Trans Mood and i needed to make it everybody else's problem :)
> 
> i'm trans masc but i wanted to try my hand at writing a trans fem character,,, looked up some experiences of trans fem individuals. tried to combine this with my own feelings of being trans,,, hope i didn't make a monster.
> 
> anyways!! hope you enjoyed. second chapter is going to contain most of the 'comfort' part of the hurt/comfort tag.
> 
> leave a comment if you'd like or wanna chat!! and if i forgot to tag anything, let me know!


	2. it's still you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dream makes up with nightmare woot woot lets get that fluff gamers

Dream almost doesn’t understand how she’s found herself here, in her brother’s castle. The obvious answer is that she’d been invited: the envelope was made of silky black paper, inscribed with golden lettering. Inside was a cordial letter of the same material requesting her presence at a neutral abandoned au, signed by the infamous _Nightmare_ at the bottom.

* * *

Ink has always been… _eccentric._ Since Dream’s awakening, he’s been a scatterbrain at best and neglectful at worst. But there’s something endearing about the way he _tries._ Dream can admire someone who tries.

This said, it isn’t uncommon for him to drop off the radar for days on end. Dream has a life and friends outside of him. She has Blue, another close friend. She has her own house in a relatively neutral universe.

She has hundreds, maybe even thousands, of admirers all across the multiverse.

… But after nearly three weeks of Ink being absent, along with the suspicious quiet from her brother and his crew, Dream began to worry.

Blue’s call came at a convenient time. His voice had been worried as he inquired if Dream had seen their mutual friend for the last few weeks. Apparently, he wasn’t answering any of his summons.

After a short rendezvous, the two decided to look for him.

It had probably been a coincidence that Ink dropped in on the two of them before any searching could begin.

Per usual, he acted just as happy-go-lucky and air headed as always.

At Dream and Blue’s pressing questions about his whereabouts, he responded that he’d been with Error. _Error._

You know. The destroyer of universes Error. That one.

The Destroyer had agreed to a “Truce,” he’d told them. Dream felt light headed at the revelation.

Blue gave a reluctant congratulations. Ink promised to tell them more later, then promptly vanished again.

“WHAT NOW?” Blue asked Dream.

Dream thought for a long time before she responded. “We wait, I guess.”

But waiting made her SOUL feel all wrong. What would a truce between the Creator and Destroyer do? Where Error goes, Nightmare often follows. The two have an on-and-off ally-ship.

Would a truce between Ink and Error mean that Ink could no longer assist Dream in keeping the balance?

It wasn’t until after Blue and Dream exchanged warm goodbyes before returning to their own homes that Dream got her answer. In the form of a pitch black envelope laying innocently on her kitchen table.

* * *

She’d been suspicious of the letter. Of _course_ she had. The whole thing _wreaked_ of ‘TRAP!’.

But the author - whether it be Nightmare or someone impersonating Dream’s brother - had cited the new truce between Ink and Error. It skirted around the word _negotiation_ , but heavily implied that Nightmare would like to have a discussion of his own with Dream.

And the curiosity had grown, as the date of the requested meeting drew closer. There were no attacks on aus. Just her, alone, in her little house which resides in an unassuming au far away from its inhabitants with the letter.

It started when she thumbed the paper between her phalanges, feeling the softness of it. Then it turned to admiring the lettering. Staring at the signature at the bottom. 

_Nightmare._

_Nightmare._

\- Until Dream was toying with the idea of actually visiting. Every time, she’d shake herself out of those thoughts almost scoldingly, and go back to training or fixing something or the occasional visit to a friend in another au.

The day before the meeting, Dream broke.

She knew it was probably an ambush. She knew that she was being sentimental and stupid and probably every other _s_ adjetive in the multiverse, but her curiosity won out. She made sure nobody would wonder where she was on the day of the meeting, and waited until it was time.

The day of the meeting, Nightmare didn’t show up at all. It was only some of the members of his crew - Killer and Dust, if Dream remembered correctly. In Dust’s hands was another pitch black envelope, containing two things: a gift and a message.

The gift was a key. To Nightmare’s universe.

Most universe keys aren’t usually actual, _physical keys_. But Nightmare’s always been a literal one. It was brass and heavy and satisfying to hold. The message had been that she was _invited._

To a ball. Held by Nightmare, of course, at his castle. In a week’s time.

Killer had informed her that Nightmare was ‘changing the locks’, so to say, soon. So Dream had best make her mind up quick.

When the two were gone, Dream held the key in her hand. It was not only heavy as she held it, but also in her mind. If it had been a trap, it would have been an elaborate one.

The letter read that Dream would be provided room and board until the night of the ball. She’d be a _guest._ Dream returned to her house with an empty feeling in her rib cage. It’d been years since she last saw her brother outside of a fight.

Distantly, there had been that fear. The familiar one, back from the village. Across the multiverse Dream was known as a girl. Nobody had questioned her when they saw the scarf upon her head and she liked it that way.

But she’d never gotten to properly tell Nightmare before he’d turned into an evil octopus that spreads terror.

For some reason, that made it easier to decide, though.

She used to be so afraid of Nightmare hating her or finding her weird. Now, he hates her anyways.

With a feeling as close to determination as a monster could get, she packed her bags. 

At the very least, this provides an opportunity to get _closure._

  
  


* * *

Dream never actually saw Nightmare during her week’s long stay at the castle. When she arrived, a large Sans by the name of _Axe_ showed her to her room. It was on the far side of the castle, decorated with yellows and golds and other warm colors.

She _did_ , however, meet the entirety of Nightmare’s crew. Axe and Dust were distant, but Cross was kind. He often stopped by to check on Dream and escort her to meals or show her around if asked.

Killer was also around fairly often. But Dream didn’t find him as helpful or courteous as Cross. In fact, the grinning Sans seemed to make it his mission to be the _opposite_ of Cross. He’d been snarky and sarcastic, joking constantly and giving false directions like some sort of cheshire cat.

Dream had taken to ignoring the skeleton, which only seemed to spur him on further. Luckily, she was not alone with unknowns in her brother’s castle.

For some reason _Ink_ had been invited as well. He had little information about the ball, but was having a blast of a time exploring the castle. Albeit he complained often about the lack of colors, _inspiration_ of the rooms and halls.

* * *

On the night of the supposed ball, Dream flings open her suitcase and feels something like panic rising in her rib cage.

Throughout the week, she’s been more focused on figuring out what Nightmare’s _angle_ is, what he _wants_ out of the impending ‘discussion’. She’d been thinking so much about the discussion that she’d forgotten the _ball_.

A knock on the door draws her out of her panicked rummaging.

“Who is it?” She calls out tiredly.

“Oooh, that’s a good question!” Ink’s bubbly voice responds, “I could be anybody in the multiverse! Or I could be anybody in the multiverse _disguised_ as anybody _else_ in the multiverse! The possibilities are endless!”

“Ink - “ Dream sighs, only to be cut off.

“Come on, where’s your _creativity_?” Ink challenges. “I could be _Asgoro!_ ” There’s an excited gasp, “Or maybe I’m -”

Dream crosses the distance between her bed and the door, and throws the door open before Ink can continue. He pouts.

“What do you want?” She asks.

Ink straightens up and grins. “I’m your escort to the ball. Are you ready?”

The golden skeleton’s brow ridges furrow. She gestures to her outfit - the one she _always_ wears - and quirks a brow. “Do I _look_ like I’m ready?”

Ink steps back to inspect her. “Now that you mention it, you _do_ look a little plain. Say, it actually looks a little bit like what you wore earlier today - “

Dream gives Ink the flattest look she can muster, “Because it _is_ what I wore earlier today. I have nothing to wear besides the field clothes I brought.”

The Creator pauses, then blinks. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you wear anything other than your usual get up. How boring.”

Dream flushes and clutches at her clothes defensively. She’s busy! She doesn’t have time to go looking for different outfits when this one works just fine. Plus, she needs to be on guard! In case Nightmare attacks!

Although… Hmph. 

Dream hasn’t gotten to experiment a lot with clothing since she was freed from her stone prison. She’d made herself an outfit that fit well for the field - loose fitting with an undersuit for modesty - and a hood to replace the scarf she wears. 

Unfortunately the scarf falls off too easily in battle, so she’d had to modify a hood to act like one. Most people got the message.

The hood itself has sentimental value to Dream - Nightmare had given it to her a long time ago. It used to be a cape, but she’d modified it to suit who she is now. The fabric is flexible, unconditional. Like a sibling’s love should be.

For a moment, she dares to remember when things hadn’t been so complicated, when Nightmare had placed the cape over her shoulders to protect her from a storm.

It’s then that she realizes - “Darn.” - she forgot her scarf back home! It’s the only one she has…

Usually Dream just wears the hood, but if even if she gets a dress, she won’t have a scarf… and there’s no way she’s leaving this room without something to cover her skull…

“I’ll say, you’re not usually this forgetful.” Ink hums. “That’s my job - hey! Why don’t I make you a dress?”

Of course! Ink’s a creator for Stars’ sake! Dream’s worry lifts and she grins at her friend, “You’d do that?”

“Oh, yeah, totally. Let me go get broomy.” Ink zips out of the room, and it’s just then that Dream notices he hasn’t been wearing his usual get up either. She almost can’t fathom the idea of Ink in a suit; it isn’t his personality at all. But he’d gotten all dolled up, and had even left Broomy in his room.

And Dream - she feels a little bad for getting irritated with Ink. He was just trying to be helpful and Dream…

She sighs and sits on her bed. 

It’s strange. For years, Dream had felt positive almost without exception. Ever since she’d eaten the apple, negative emotions had become oily. Slippery, just out of grasp. If she focuses really hard on something she doesn’t like, she can almost make those feelings appear. But they fall away easily.

Even thinking about the village, about how unhappy she’d been, isn’t enough to conjure up real hatred or anything close. 

But staying in the castle has made her… crankier? No, just _less_ positive. She has to wonder if it’s Nightmare’s presence. Perhaps this is what balance feels like? The siblings have never been so close for such a prolonged time before.

…

Again, a knock on the door brings her out of darker thoughts.

Dream doesn’t bother to turn around. “Ink, the door is _literally open_. You didn’t close it behind you - “ When she turns, it’s not Ink that’s standing there.

It’s Killer.

Dream almost scowls, but she doesn’t. “Shouldn’t you be at the ball by now?” She inquires in her best _Polite Guardian of Positivity_ voice.

Killer is certainly dressed for a ball. His dress is nice, beautiful even. It's an A-line dress that's deep burgundy and flows nicely to the floor just around some ridiculously high heels. The bodice is tight and more lace than fabric, but it's pretty. Really pretty.

Dream _knows_ Nightmare doesn’t pay his crew. She wonders where he got the money and access to a tailor for it.

“i would be, princess dreamy, but the big boss told me to give you something.” He grins. Dream’s gaze darts down to the hanger in his hands. There’s an outfit on it, but the opaque plastic covering prevents her from seeing what it exactly is.

“ _Don’t_ call me princess dreamy ever again.” She tells him seriously. Killer only winks and snickers. Annoying. Whatever. He sets the covering down on the bed and gives her a small wave before leaving again.

The way he saunters away draws her attention to his hips, but she shakes her skull lightly and looks back down.

“toodaloo ~” 

Dream scoffs. She sits in place for a few moments before curiosity once again overwhelms her. Hesitantly, Dream touches the covering with her gloved hands. “Does he really expect me to wear something he picked out…?” She mumbles. Well. Might as well see what it is.

She uncovers the outfit and gasps.

It’s… It’s a really pretty dress. Yellow tulle ruffles on the bottom, giving it lots of volume, with a bone-tight bodice. The bodice is beaded with something very shiny, Dream’s surprised by how heavy it is. Must be something more dense than just glass…

The bodice has sleeves attached, but they’re obviously meant to hang off the shoulder. It’s a beautiful dress, but it’s not what makes her gasp. Tied around the hanger is a translucent yellow cloth. She untangles it to find that it’s a scarf. The white lace reminds her of the scarf she’d lost so long ago to Mrs. Arlyl.

Dream clutches the fabric in her hands.

She can’t help but feel like it’s a message from her brother… 

Dream closes the door and makes quick work of getting dressed and tying up the scarf properly. It’s been a long time since she’s worn a scarf properly instead of just her hood! 

She doesn’t have much in the way of make up, nor do skeletons wear that much of it, but she does have some face paint in her bag from the last time she stayed over at Blue’s and they slept over.

With a tiny brush, dream stares into the vanity in the room carefully and outlines the bottoms of her eye sockets with the gold. There.

… Thankfully Ink doesn’t bust into the room until _after_ the brush is safely away from Dream’s face.

She turns with a startled look to Ink, who has Broomy held aloft over his head.

“I’m back! Now let’s get to dress-making! I was thinking about the color palette while I was looking, and by the way, I couldn’t find Broomy in my room and I had to go looking - “

Ink falters when he sees Dream dressed in a, well, _dress._

“Oh, you found something?” He asks casually.

“U...Uh, yeah.” Dream stutters, still calming herself from Ink’s entrance. “Killer brought it by… he said Nightmare picked it out…”

Oblivious, per usual, Ink tosses Broomy onto Dream’s bed.

“Wow! I didn’t think he’d be so good with colors. You look great, Dream.” Ink compliments.

“Thanks…” Dream mumbles.

Ink offers his arm and Dream takes it so they can walk to the ball room together. Now to see if the guardian can remember the way and not let Ink distract her...

* * *

“Lady Dream and Lord Ink!” A monster seated by the entrance to the ballroom exclaims loudly.

Dream freezes. All eyes in the room - and there are _a lot of eyes (or eye sockets at least)_ in the room - turn towards the newcomers. She wishes she could sink into the floor. Of course Nightmare would have someone to announce anyone who enters the room.

She’s coming to learn that he has a flair for the dramatic he’d never acted on back when they were kids.

Thankfully the attention doesn’t last for long and everybody goes back to what they’d been doing before. Which is apparently dancing, drinking, and chatting. Seems rather mundane and… pleasant for a party hosted by Nightmare. But maybe Dream’s just too suspicious.

“Your brother really stepped up his game…” Ink mutters in awe, looking at the dazzling hues that decorate the room. Mostly in shades of purple. Dream snorts because she knows it’s more self-centered than anything else.

In the crowd of monsters, there are mostly Sanses and Papyruses from different aus. Most of them recognize Dream or Ink and want to say hi.

Ink and Dream stay arm-in-arm against the crowd until Ink spots someone across the room. “Oh! Error! Hey, you don’t mind if I go mingle, do you?” The Creator turns to Dream with a star and an exclamation point in his sockets.

Dream waves him off with a smile. “It’s fine! Tell him I said hi, okay?”

Ink promises to and runs off, leaving Dream alone. Her bright grin falls with nobody to convince and she gravitates to the edge of the room, near a table serving drinks. Now that the ball’s finally here, she wonders if Nightmare will meet her…

She sighs and takes a drink. Maybe then she can leave and start feeling like herself again.

“Dream? Oh, hey!” Cross greets, moving into her field of view. A more genuine smile slips over Dream’s face as he grabs a drink of his own. “You look really nice!”

Cross himself is dressed in a white suit with a black undershirt and a red tie. Fairly on brand for the monochrome skeleton.

“You too. How are you?” Dream leans against the drink table and takes a sip of her - champagne?

“Eh… crowds make me kind of nervous.” Cross admits shyly, a hint of purple on his cheekbones.

Dream’s smile becomes a little sad, “Yeah. Especially when everyone wants to ask you for a favor....” She remembers all the monsters greeting her, all trying to get a word in before Ink pulled her away.

“Don’t worry. Nightmare made sure everybody knew they weren’t allowed to make requests to you tonight.” Cross tells her reassuringly, “and if anybody breaks that rule… point them out, okay?” At that last part, Cross sounds almost a little grumpy.

Dream has to laugh a little.

“That’s sweet, but aren’t you _Nightmare’s_ bodyguard?” Then she realizes what he said. “Oh, he did?”

Cross flushes again and scratches at the back of his neck with his free hand. “Um, yeah, he did. I’m actually supposed to bring you to his office right now.”

Maybe it’s the drink making Dream feel a little loose, or the fact that she’s been waiting for this all week, but she takes Cross by the arm and marches towards the exit of the ballroom. “Well then, show me the way!”

Cross makes a nervous laugh and leads her away.

* * *

Cross knocks on the heavy wooden door quietly. He shrinks back when Nightmare’s low voice calls out, “Do you have Dream?”

“Uh, yeah, boss.” He replies.

“... Well then?”

Cross pushes the door open and shepherds Dream in before retreating and closing the door behind him. Now Dream and her brother are alone.

It’s almost surreal, to be in the presence of her brother when they’re not fighting. The setting is calm, music from the ballroom loud enough to filter in even here. It’s muted but it gives Dream something to focus on besides the way Nightmare’s teal eye light focuses on her form.

“Erm… thanks for the dress.” Dream tells him softly after she can’t stand the lack of talking. She meets Nightmare’s gaze.

“... You’re welcome.” Nightmare responds. “... But we have more pressing things to discuss than a dress.” He takes a seat behind his desk. Dream dares to step forward and take a seat on a small table nearby, smoothing her dress under her.

“Yeah, we can start at you explaining all this.” She gestures around her a little wildly. Her face conveys her feelings without Nightmare having to read them, _You think?_

Nightmare’s eye light narrows. “Should I really be the one explaining myself?”

Dream blinks.

She gestures to the room again. “I don’t know? You trapped me in stone for almost five hundred years, built a castle, got a gang, and terrorize the multiverse now? Doesn’t that warrant a little bit of an explanation? Or maybe all the times you’ve tried to kill me do?”

Nightmare sits back in his seat. “I did what I had to.”

“ _Had to?”_ Dream echoes incredulously.

“Yes.” 

“What part of any of this was necessary? Was leaving me to rot as a statue _necessary_?”

Nightmare stays quiet. He looks like he’s in thought, with his working eye socket closed. Dream feels something loud grow in her rib cage. But it’s not anger, not hatred. Even now she can’t _really_ feel those things. But it feels pretty close.

“Are you happy now, brother?” She whispers.

Nightmare’s socket snaps open and his cold rage sweeps over the room like a blast of wind. Dream shivers, despite herself.

“You ask stupid questions, _sister._ ” He spits.

Dream is quiet before she gives her brother a hard look. “Is that what this is about, you didn’t want to see me? You just wanted to mock me?”

Nightmare seems to understand that he’s hit a sensitive spot. Instead of exploiting it, picking at it, like Dream expects him to do, Nightmare simmers down. “Of course not, idiot. Error - “ The corrupted skeleton drags a hand down his face. “... How did that bastard do it…”

“Do what?” Dream huffs.

Nightmare rolls his eye light, “Deal with one of you _infernal_ Star Sanses!” He jeers sarcastically, “How did that bastard manage to swallow down his pride for long enough to work out a truce with the stupid squid…!”

Dream feels like her seat might drop out from underneath her. Truce? Is that what this is about? Nightmare wants a _truce?_ He’s the one who started this all!

“Forget it.” She tells her brother, getting herself ready to leave this stupid party and this stupid castle for good - 

“Don’t you dare leave!” Nightmare growls. Another burst of anger rolls over the room and Dream has to steal herself to keep from flinching. It _hurts_ , dammit!

She turns around, “Then tell me what this is really about! What do you _want_ , Nightmare!”

Nightmare huffs for a moment, restraining his anger. “What I’ve always wanted.” He confesses after a bit, “I want you to understand.”

“Understand _what?_ ” Dream breathes out. “Understand why you destroyed the Tree? Why you killed the villagers? Why you lied to me, day after day?”

“Yes! Don’t act like you’re innocent!” Nightmare accuses, “You lied to me, too! You hid _everything_ from me! All while you gallivanted around the village, kissing the asses of the people who hurt _me,_ your _brother_.”

Dream gapes for a minute, not having expected the sudden, brutal honesty.

“Y...You didn’t tell me they were hurting you.” It’s a weak argument, because deep down, Dream had known. She just didn’t want to admit that it had been in front of her. That she hadn’t done anything to prevent it.

“Right.” Nightmare scoffs, “Because tripping on the path gives you a black eye.” Before Dream can argue that _Nightmare_ is the one who told such a ridiculous lie, he continues, “How lucky that you got to keep your own differences on the inside, where nobody could hurt you for them.”

“Don’t make this about _that._ ” Dream says tightly, “Call me irresponsible and cruel and anything else but _don’t make it about that._ I’m _sorry_. I’m _sorry_ I didn’t do anything back then. I’m _sorry_ that it got you hurt.”

“ _Sorry_ doesn’t fix corruption, sister.” Nightmare hisses.

“What do you want me to do?” Dream cries, “I wish I had done differently! It doesn’t change anything, but I wish I did! I was just a _kid,_ Nighty.”

“ _We_ were kids.” Nightmare corrects, “ _We._ ”

“... I’m sorry.” Dream whispers again. “I’m sorry they took a kid like you and they hurt him and I’m sorry that a kid like me was too afraid to tell the truth. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

“ _Stupid.”_ Nightmare bites out, “.... _Stupid._ ” Dream’s SOUL falls, until... “I could have _never_ hated you.”

Dream laughs a little to hide her sniffles as she balls up the fabric of her dress in her hands. “Yeah, well there’s another thing sorry can’t fix. Hate me all you want now, brother.”

Nightmare growls. “I didn’t send you a fucking letter, plan a ball, and let you into my fucking castle because I hated you.”

“Then why?” Dream challenges.

“I don’t know!” Nightmare admits, frustrated. “I don’t know! I saw that the glitch made up with your little friend and I… I wanted that.”

Dream is a little stunned. “You’re very honest today.”

“Yeah, well,” Nightmare says. He sounds like he’s collapsed into himself, apathetic and exhausted. “I’m tired of lying and acting like I don’t give a shit. I’m _tired_ , Dream.”

Dream wanders closer to Nightmare’s desk. The twins bask in the heaviness of Nightmare’s admission. “I… I’m tired of it too, Nightmare.” She tells him. “If you want a truce… I’m okay with that.”

“I want _more_ than a stupid truce, idiot.” Nightmare sighs, “I want to be br... _siblings_ again.”

Dream’s traitorous SOUL soars high at the admission, but her voice is lower than ever when she tells her brother the truth. “...Me too. I miss you. We… we can work on it, okay? Building trust and, um, not trying to kill each other?”

… 

One of Nightmare’s tentacles whips out and catches Dream by the wrist. She flinches, but he doesn’t hurt her.

“... That’s acceptable. We can negotiate the truce later.”

“Aren’t we doing that right now?” She pries the appendage off her arm and rubs at it, giving the tentacle a stink eye.

Nightmare smirks at Dream, a completely different expression than only a minute ago as his tentacle retracts. “Did you think I threw a ball just so I could have a family squabble? You must not know me that well, sister.”

“I’ve never known you to dance, _brother_.” Dream says sardonically.

Nightmare’s smile widens. “Allow me to demonstrate, then.” But Nightmare doesn’t lead her out of the room just yet. Instead, he grabs something from a side table that Dream hadn’t noticed earlier with his tentacles. Two glasses of something dark and red.

Probably wine.

Nightmare hands Dream one and she takes it daintily, noting thankfully that none of her brother’s slime had gotten on it.

“A toast.” He offers. 

Dramatics.

Dream snorts because she’s beginning to understand exactly who her brother’s become and it isn’t all bad. She clinks her glass up against his.

“To who we are now, may we forget the brats of our past.” She offers, only half joking.

Nightmare takes a thoughtful sip, “To who we are now… I like that. Let’s forget the past for right now.”

“ _Please_.” The twins share a quick laugh.

* * *

The monsters from all over the multiverse seem shocked to see Nightmare and Dream enter the ballroom together. A large space is cleared around them as the siblings begin to dance. A minute later, the crowd resumes dancing, but there’s still a bit of space between the twins and other guests

Dream notes that they’ve both become much better dancers since childhood.

She slings her arms over Nightmare’s shoulders and tells him so.

“You flatter me.” Nightmare says flatly. “I’m impressed you haven’t managed to step on my feet yet.”

“There’s still a considerable amount of time left, Nighty. Don’t get so disappointed just yet.” Dream teases. 

The two are quiet for a few songs, just leaning against each other and dancing. It’s a nice change of pace from attempted murder. In this moment, it really feels like they can get over their past.

There’s a lot that still needs to be discussed… trust that needs to be built… but for the first time in over five hundred years, Dream knows that Nightmare is on the same page as her. They want to become closer again.

And Dream… she feels more like herself, more positive. Funny, since she’s as close to Nightmare as she can get.

… 

“Sir Blue!” The greeter calls out, drawing Dream’s attention. Her and Nightmare look over to where Blue, her friend, bounds in and starts waving to the entire room with a loud greeting. He’s wearing a cyan suit just as bright as his magic.

Nightmare makes a displeased noise. “I don’t know how you can stand that one.”

“Oh, hush. He’s an excellent source of positivity.” Dream laughs, “But he’s a very good friend. And a good monster.”

“Hmph.” Nightmare smirks, “I don’t make it my business to get to know _good_ monsters.”

Dream rolls her eye lights, and it’s just her and Nightmare in her little world again. “I can see that. Axe nearly scared my SOUL out the other day with his cleaver and - oh, you wouldn’t _believe_ the things that Killer says…” She grumbles.

“Don’t be like that.” Nightmare teases in that strange way of his. Dream almost can't tell when he's being truthful or just playing around with her. “He just likes you is all.”

Positively _scandalized_ , Dream huffs. “Well, _assuming_ , that’s true, he shouldn’t act like such a child about it. Aren’t we past putting gum in your crush’s shoes?”

“Did he?”

“Stars, no. I would’ve decapitated him.”

“Ah, well.” Nightmare says, “Give him a chance. Maybe.”

Then, Nightmare is twirling Dream around. She lets out a small yelp as she falls. But something sturdy catches her. Dream looks up to see the very grinning face she’d been thinking about in contempt not seconds ago.

“heya, princess.” Killer says cheekily. 

Dream pushes herself up and straightens herself. “Hello, _Killer._ ”

Pretending not to notice her annoyance, the skeleton offers a hand. “may i have this dance?”

Dream blinks at the smug Sans in front of her. “ _May_ you? I don’t know, shove your foot up your own coccyx and I’ll consider it.”

“maybe later. i don’t think it’s appropriate for polite company,” The skeleton snickers.

The guardian rolls her eye lights and swiftly takes up Killer’s hand, remembering what Nightmare had told her. She can give him the benefit of the doubt for a few minutes. “ _One_ dance.” She tells him strictly.

“yes ma’am.” Killer replies happily, sliding an arm around Dream’s waist.

“If your hand moves from its spot I’ll knee you in the pubic symphysis.”

“promise?”

“You're an absolute lecher.” But there’s no heat in Dream’s words. Killer seems to be mostly harmless. In a dance setting, at least.

“guilty, but save the dirty talk for the bedroom.”

Dream gapes and feels her skull flush pure gold. This monster!

Killer laughs and dips her. “just kidding, princess dreamy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream lowkey disproves of nightmare's ~company~ but she feels a lil better after hanging in the castle for a bit. plus she sees how sweet nightmare is to them and it makes her heart a lil melty melty lolol
> 
> ___  
> this... took so long to write.... i sat down........ and like 6 hours later i had a chapter ;-;
> 
> hyperfixation is great but i haven't eaten all day so im going to go do that now qwq
> 
> anyways!! happy ending!!! don't we all love one! and yeah. i couldn't resist the cream/driller/dreammare. driller or, uh, kream? has been one of my favorite ships since forever lol
> 
> [here's a quinceañera dress i saw, which dream's dress is based on](https://www.simple-dress.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/fcd08b4d62913f6b48deba0da0d538cc/4/2/42000194.jpg)
> 
> [anddd here's my tumblr](https://beanniebenn.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> oohhh la la ~ backstory. fun. ;)


End file.
